Comatose
by OriginalPippie
Summary: Different scenes from HEAD interlace with the lives of The Monkees when a tragic event takes place.
1. The Jump

Part one: The Jump

People screamed and ran while others watched, stunned, trying to figure out what just happened. Bits of red ribbon lay across the pavement and the mayor shook his head. He dropped the scissors in his hand, frustrated over not knowing how else to react. He threw his hands in the air and muttered about the crazy teenagers running by and interrupting the dedication ceremony for the new bridge. The military officials ran over to inform him of the forming situation of what appeared to be, not an act of defiance or some sort of crazy youth protest, but rather a possible suicide attempt in progress. With this news, the mayor changed his demeanor to show sympathy and concern towards the four young men who just ran past them. Immediately, the mayor turned and conversed with the General over how to handle the situation.

Already on the other side of the bridge, Micky tore off his jacket, tossed it to the ground and climbed onto the ledge of the bridge. Knowing that his friends were closing in on him, he took a breath and jumped. The other three scrambled to the ledge where Micky had jumped from, but they were too late to do anything about it. They stood there, staring in fear as they watched Micky plummet to the water below.

Micky sank, feeling the water incase him. He released all the air he had in his lungs, causing bubbles to surround him. Feeling relaxed, he allowed the water to consume him as he slowly drifted further and further towards the bottom of the ocean. He closed his eyes and lost all sense of direction. Everything seemed so serene and he felt the previous weight of the world, and all his worries dissolve away into the darkness of the ocean depths. Everything that led to his jump no longer mattered, and all thought about it ceased to exist. He was calm. He sank deeper and deeper, releasing all care into the water.

Everything became dark and he knew he was no longer breathing air. He tried to see through the water, only meeting a strange haze. Through that haze, all the colors seemed to mix and created surreal and bright colors that changed all around him. None of it made any sense, and yet, it all made perfect sense. He felt strange, as though he was between two worlds, the real and the fantasy. These two worlds as he witnessed them seemed to blend where it was no longer possible for him to determine one from the other. Opening his eyes all the way, he watched as two girls swam over to him. A few more bubbles escaped his lungs and he watched them float away before turning his gaze back to the girls. He melted into their gentle hands as they each took him by an arm and started carrying him away. It was at that point, where he realized that these girls had tails and fins. As odd as it was that he was just carried away through the water by real mermaids, he felt as though it was perfectly reasonable and just what was expected.

Allowing the mermaids to swim away with him to some unknown location, Micky relaxed and grinned. His entire life he had never been more comfortable or more content than he was now. He grinned and watched the changing colors around him, melting completely as everything began to fade away.

…

A strange buzz filled Micky's head as he felt himself enter a realm of semi-consciousness. This buzz was a mixture of noises, all of which he wasn't sure what they were. Unfamiliar sensations surrounded him and he felt as though he was paralyzed. A weight fell upon his chest as he struggled to breathe. He soon realized that he was in a bed but something was strange about it. The blanket was thin and itchy. The mattress seemed slightly lumpy. Something wrapped around his wrist and he felt something sharp poking into his skin. He was confused as he tried to open his mouth, still struggling to breathe on his own, and he felt something hard and plastic over his throat. Confusion and panic swept through him as he tried repeatedly but with fail to move, to speak, to open his eyes.

Strange mechanical sounds began to become clear to him as the buzzing and beeping of machines. Though he could finally determine the source of these sounds, he still found it odd and puzzling. As he tried to make sense over why he was hearing these machines, or even what type they were, he noticed other sounds. He began to turn his focus on these new sounds and realized, although they seemed strangely muffled and far away, these were voices. The voices of these other people sounded so alien to him and seemed to be speaking some sort of foreign language. Soon, the alien quality to these voices started to fade away and morphed into the voices of people he recognized, and the strange foreign language slowly became regular English. Even though he recognized the language now, he still could not quite make out what was being said, or even the exact speakers. He tried to open his mouth in an attempt to speak, to communicate with whoever was around him. When he realized that he was incapable of speaking or just opening his mouth, he grew frustrated and wanted to scream. Knowing that this was as possible as talking at the moment, he grew even more frustrated.

"Do you think he'll wake up?" Mike asked, his voice echoing through Micky's mind.

_Wake up? What is he talking about? I am awake. Is that Mike?_

"I'm going to be honest with you, mister Nesmith." an unfamiliar voice said "Even though people _do _wake up from comas; it is not certain how any of this occurs. Micky _may _wake up, but we can't determine when or if he does."

_What does that mean? Why are they talking about me like that? Can't they see I'm awake?_

Peter looked at the doctor with wide, sorrowful eyes "You mean…" he swallowed "You mean Micky might never wake up from this." He looked at Micky, moving closer to the bed. Tears began to form in his eyes. "Doc… there has to be something you can do…"

_Peter? No, please, really… I'm fine. Look… I'm here. I'm awake. Come on Big Peter… Please don't be upset… Really, I'm ok. See?_

"I'm sorry." the doctor said, "There's no guarantee that he will wake up. And all that can be done for him is already being done."

_Wait. What? Never wake up? No! Don't tell them that! I'm awake! I'm awake! Why can't you see this?_

Davy sighed and looked at Micky. "So this is it? This is how he'll be until…" he trailed off as he sat next to Micky, not taking his eyes off him

_Davy… no. No you've got to see that I'm ok… Guys what's going on? Why are you all acting like this? Ok joke's over ha ha… look I'm awake I swear! Here I'll move and you'll see._

"I'm not going to say there's no hope for him." the doctor said, "He just might pull through this. I just can't say for certain if he will. You just have to hang in there and have faith. Sometimes people in comas pull through with verbal encouragement."

_Guys this isn't funny at all. I'm not moving. Help! I'm not moving! Guys please… you have to help me._

"Verbal encouragement?" Mike asked, confused "You mean… talk to him and he'll wake up?" Skepticism ran thick through his voice.

"Well it's not quite that simple. Right now he's in there, fighting. You could say he's at war; stuck in a world between life and death. I've seen a lot of amazing things occur since becoming a doctor; things that medical science can't explain. I've seen this sort of thing before, the more people talk to their loved ones in this condition, the better it seems to be for them. Hearing familiar voices helps them to fight and pull through easier."

Mike stood silent for a moment, as he listened to the doctor speak. He nodded with a small sigh and turned to face Micky in the bed. Moving over to the bed, he pulled up a chair and placed a hand over Micky's limp one.

"It's worth a try…" he said quietly. "Mick… you heard him… I know you did…" he swallowed and gathered his thoughts. "You've got to fight, okay? We need you to come back to us, buddy. We need you." he sighed "Micky l… we shouldn't be here. We should be onstage performing… like we do best." He looked down for a moment and took Micky's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Just fight, Mick. Keep fighting… you gotta keep fighting."

…

Micky found himself surrounded by darkness. Screams began to fill the void, but these screams almost seemed to come from a distance. At first, they reminded him of cheering fans at a concert. He could see himself, along with the other guys, getting ready for a show. Then suddenly, Mike's voice telling him to fight echoed through his mind and the screaming fans morphed into a different type of sound. These were no longer screams that he heard. These screams had become the whistles of far off bombs dropping. Sounds of explosions mixed with machine guns and tanks firing off artillery. Men's voices began shouting all around him. Micky felt a hand grab his shoulder, startling him. Hs eyes popped open and he stared back into the panicked eyes of Peter.

"Micky! We're running low on ammunition!"

"W-wah? Peter? What's going on?" He looked at him, stunned, seeing that he was in an army uniform. He jumped up and suddenly saw his war trench surroundings. "Peter! What's going on?!"

"Micky!" Peter handed him a rifle "We're low on ammunition! You have to get some for us!"

"Me? What? Me? Why do I have to get-" he stammered as he looked around in a panic

Mike popped his gum and glanced back at them. "Peter get him to calm down. Davy get up here, looks like you'll have to go out there for us."

"Out there?" Davy asked, stepping up to the edge of the trench. "I can't see it's too deep!"

"What did you say?" Mike asked, looking down at him

"I can't see nothing! It's too deep!"

Micky, sinking back down into the dirt, feeling a mixture of emotions, looked over at Mike and Davy. Nothing made sense. He couldn't understand how they got in this trench or how they even wound up in this war. He wasn't even sure what war this was. Trying to sort through all his emotions, he sighed and reached up to remove his helmet. Glancing up at Davy, he handed it to him, offering it for him to stand upon. Micky was sure he wouldn't actually need it since this couldn't possibly have been a real war. Even if he had got hit by something, he surely wouldn't actually feel it. He even pictured himself rolling around in the dirt and groaning in pain, mocking the act of getting hit by a stray bullet, but that only made him feel worse about everything.

Peter, who sat next to him, trying to help ease his thoughts and emotions, removed his own helmet and handed it to Micky. Looking confused at Peter and at the helmet, Micky declined it, still unsure of why he needed it. Peter sighed, giving him a sad, yet sympathetic look and told him he needed the helmet to keep fighting.

"Keep fighting?" Micky asked, even more confused

"Micky, please, you have to fight." Peter said, pleadingly

"Fight what?"

"You have to fight for us. For yourself. Please, Micky."

Peter's voice seemed to grow more desperate and sad as he spoke to Micky. He even sounded to be on the verge of tears as he kept urging Micky to fight and pull through the war he was in. Micky still couldn't understand any of what was happening. He looked around, taking in all the sights from deep inside the trench. Suddenly Mike barked an order at Peter, sending him into the line of fire for more ammunition. Micky sat there, stunned that Peter had actually put himself in this position for all of them. He stood and headed towards the edge of the trench and peeked out to watch Peter. His eyes widened as he watched Peter run, dodging fire from every direction before eventually disappearing into a different trench half way across the battlefield. He began to tremble, fearing for Peter's life. Fear and confusion swept over him, as did his thoughts and the repeated phrases spoken by his friends, telling him to keep fighting. It still wasn't even clear to him what he was supposed to be fighting for, or even why they kept telling him this. As he tried to make sense of all this, he almost missed what Mike was saying, unsure if it was about Peter or about him.

"He won't make it through this intense bombardment. Nobody could."

Just after Mike had finished his dire statement, Peter returned triumphant and with the much needed ammunition. He tossed Micky a gold colored football helmet, suddenly bringing a smile to his face. The four of them ran out of the trench and across the battlefield to a tunnel. Bombs exploded and they escaped through the tunnel. The screams returned and the scenery changed. Suddenly confusion swarmed Micky as they were now running backstage towards an arena full of screaming fans. They reached the stage and there was a noticeable energy shift. Everyone was smiling, excited to begin their performance. The excitement in the crowd grew more intense, building up more and more throughout the song that the band played. Micky looked up from his drums and his face fell. The crowd's screams seemed much less excited and more vicious. He looked at the other three and saw the growing panic on their faces. Davy looked at him, giving a nod.

"Fight it, mate. You have to fight."

"What?" Micky asked, even more puzzled than before. "The fans?"

"Just, fight it." Davy said before looking towards the crowd.

Micky watched in horror while the crowd swarmed the stage. They took down Davy first, tearing him to shreds as though he was a mannequin. The fans were crazed, ripping the clothes off them and tearing them apart limb by limb. Micky panicked as the fans came over to him last. He tried to run but there were too many girls, screaming his name. They knocked him down, crowding him into a corner behind his drums. As they started to claw at him and rip at his clothes, everything began to fade away. He closed his eyes tight, but he could still hear, although much more faint, the sounds of the screaming fans in his mind.

…

Mike sat, mindlessly flipping through the channels on the television. For hours, he had spent by Micky's bedside. He hadn't moved from his chair except to occasionally stretch or to go into the bathroom. He let out a heavy sigh and glanced over at Micky, not noticing as Peter and Davy entered the room. Peter walked over to the bed while Davy remained by the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. Peter looked up at the TV screen, watching as Mike flipped back and forth between two channels; one showing endless coverage of the Vietnam War, the other showing recorded footage from a concert. Frowning, Peter looked at Mike.

"Hey… you've been going back and forth between those two same channels for the past half hour."

"Yeah well I'm highly interested in both programs." Mike mumbled. He sighed and dropped the remote onto the bedside table before looking helplessly at Micky.

He didn't have to say anything. Neither of them did. The forlorn expression he bore showed what they were all feeling. Except for sounds from the television and the machines working to keep Micky alive, everything in the room fell silent as the three friends watched over Micky. Seeing him in this state was too much for either of them to bear. He seemed so lifeless; a complete turn from his normal energetic, bubbly, humorous self. Micky was always the one who kept the four of them together. Now, with him in this state, struggling to hang on to life, neither of them knew what to do. They had no idea how they were going to make it through this, but they knew they had to stick together in order to help Micky.


	2. Lost

Part two: Lost

The sun beat down, directly overhead, making trudging through the desert even more unbearable than it already was. Micky stopped for a moment, on top of a dune, and panted. He swallowed and squinted his eyes as he looked around in hopes of locating a different type of scenery. Unwilling to go on, Micky frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. The heat was dry and overwhelming as it surrounded him. Sweat ran down every part of his body and a thirst grew within him. In this moment of unbearable weakness, Micky fell forward and tumbled down the side of the sand dune.

When he reached the bottom, he summoned whatever strength and motivation he had left inside of him in order to slowly stand. He trudged forward, each step seeming even heavier than the previous one. His thirst worsened and he desperately tried to relieve it by swallowing. This only caused his mouth to become dryer. He forced himself to keep moving, telling himself that he would die if he didn't. Looking ahead, he spied something that seemed so out of place, and he couldn't believe it was real. Moving closer to it, he struggled to determine whether or not this was just a mirage. When he stood in front of it, he placed a hand upon it to see that it was in fact real. However illogical it was that a Coke machine would be in the middle of the desert with no obvious power source to run it, he was too tired and thirsty to question anything about it. Much to his relief, upon reaching into his pocket, he actually had some coins with him, and just enough to purchase a Coke. Devastatingly, upon inserting the coins and pushing the button that should have dispelled his beverage, the machine flashed an image on a small screen that indicated that it was empty.

Micky furiously pounded on the machine through his devastation and frustration, even though he knew this would do nothing to ease his ill situation. He began to pound and kick at the machine before collapsing into the sand. As he laid there, his chest heaving and his emotions waging war within him, he listened to the surrounding silence. That silence was short-lived though, as his thoughts began to echo through his mind. At first, these thoughts came in the form of his own voice telling him how pathetic he was and how he should give up all hope of escaping the desert. He began shouting at his own subconscious voice, battling against it, but the voice wore him back down into an emotional, pathetic mess in the sand.

As he lay there, in silence again, he felt himself growing more helpless. The silence didn't last as more voices came to him. He lay for a moment, trying to separate the voices so he could understand them better. When he was able to make sense of them, he sat up, stunned, as he recognized whose voices they were. He sat still, listening as Mike, Davy and Peter spoke to him in his mind, but he wasn't sure at first what either of them were saying to him. They seemed so distant, despite being in his head, but the more that they spoke to him, the louder they became.

"What… what do you guys want?"

Mike was the first voice that became clear to him.

_Mick… Micky please… I know you can hear me… just give me some sort of sign…_

"A sign?" Micky looked around, confused "A sign for what? What are you talking about?"

_Micky… I know you're listenin' to me. Hang in there… I need you…_

Mike's voice seemed to drift away and Micky stood, his eyes widening a little.

"Come back!" he waved his hands near his ears. "Mike please come back! What do you need from me?"

_I need you to hear… what I have to say to y_ou…

"What? Mike, I'm listening. What do you need to say to me?"

_There's so much that I need to tell you… to get off my chest…_

Mike's voice faded away, echoing in Micky's mind. Shocked that it was gone so soon, Micky clutched the sides of his head and dropped to the sand, devastated and confused. The wind blew through the sand and the sun continued to beat down on him. He looked up, suddenly feeling everything become very still. Glancing towards the Coke machine, he whimpered and tried to bring back Mike's voice. It was then, as his previous thirst began to return, when he realized all the voices were gone. As he moved closer to the Coke machine again, he reached up and the machine began to fade away. In a panic, he looked around at the desert. He closed his eyes with another whimper and felt everything else begin to disappear.

…

Mike sat diligently by Micky's bedside. He held Micky's hand and spoke softly to him. He spoke until he thought he couldn't conjure up any more words. It wasn't entirely certain whether Micky could hear anything that was said to him, but Mike knew they all had to try. Something was bound to reach him and Mike was determined to sit there all he could, talking until his damn mouth fell off. Even if Micky never responded to any of his words, he knew he had to keep talking because this was exactly what Micky would have done for him. Also, there was so much he needed to say; so much he needed Micky to hear. It might not have made a difference on Micky's condition, but these things desperately needed said.

Not stopping what he was saying, Mike looked up as Peter and Davy entered the room with bottles of Coke. Peter walked over to Mike and handed him one of the bottles in his hands. Davy tugged at his shirt collar and opened the window while comparing the conditions to a desert. Mike turned his attention back to Micky. He sighed, took a drink, and continued talking to him. Peter gave him a sad smile and placed a hand on his back before looking at Micky's still, lifeless looking body. Neither he, nor Davy really paid attention to what Mike was talking about, but they both knew what it was. They both knew how important it was for Mike to get these things off his chest. Sharing an understanding look, Peter and Davy got up and left the room again, so Mike would have more moments of privacy with Micky. They all had something important to tell Micky, and they had decided it was best to take turns talking to him so neither of them could be interrupted in any of it.

It had already been days since Micky fell into his comatose state, but the most emotional days either of them had ever had to face together. It wasn't emotional just because of the state Micky was in, with the possibility looking over them that he might never wake up. There was also the fact that all three of them were riddled with their own guilt towards the situation, especially leading up to when Micky jumped off the bridge. They all felt some amount of responsibility towards what had happened. Because of this shared guilt, but for different reasons, they weren't able to bring themselves to leave the hospital, even once they were told to. They felt that they had to remain by Micky's side and do whatever they could in order to help revive him. If that meant they had to talk constantly to him, spilling their guts about all their guilt and remorse over the situation, until he woke up, then they were going to do just that.

Once he was alone again, Mike looked at Micky and squeezed his hand. He derailed the current story he was telling him about things at home with the rent or Peter trying to cook again. Knowing that this wasn't doing anything for him, he took a deep breath and began expressing his thoughts and feelings about the two of them and their relationship. He finally started to get out the things he needed to say.

…

_Mick you know if it were me, you'd do the same thing…_

Micky opened his eyes as soon as Mike's voice left his mind. He heard shouts of men all around him, as though a battle was taking place. However, this was a different battle than what he had experienced before. There weren't any bombs or tanks or even planes flying overhead. There were just shouts and bullets being fired. Arrows whizzed by, and Micky tried to see exactly what was happening. He looked at himself as he stood and saw that he wore a Calvary uniform. His examination of himself was only brief as someone shouted at him to duck from the oncoming bullets and arrows. When Micky looked up again, he saw that all seemed safe enough for him to stand. As he took to his feet, once again, he heard the distressed call from Mike, drawing his concerned attention towards a nearby tree.

"Micky…" Mike's voice was strained as though he was in pain "Mick help me… the arrow got me."

Micky rushed over to where Mike lay and saw an arrow sticking out of his chest. Blood had begun to pool around the wound, staining his shirt. Micky looked at him, clearly panicked.

"Mike what happened? What do I do?"

"Please… just help me get this off my chest." Mike panted a little, motioning towards the arrow.

"I don't know what to do."

A girl's scream distracted Micky. He hurried over to her and saw her lying weakly on the ground with a fresh snakebite. She looked at him and begged him to save her by sucking the venom from the wounded area.

"Mick…" Mike called, pained "Mick don't pay attention to her…"

"But she needs help!"

"No… she doesn't. She's not even real." As these words came out, an arrow struck Micky in his leg "She never was real." With these words, another arrow struck Micky.

"Ahh!" Micky dropped to the ground, hissing in pain. "Mike… you can't tell me she's not real! She's there!" he grabbed his leg and attempted to pull the arrows out "She's there! I know she's real, Mike. You can't determine it."

"Mick, look at me." he said, and Micky listened. "You know what that girl represents. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have dismissed it as not real." His voice began to strain some more and he hissed in pain. "I'm sorry Mick… it's real to you… your feelings are real."

"Why did you hurt me so much, Mike?" he looked towards the girl and saw her begin to fade away.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. You know that. I just… once I knew you had these feelings for me… I didn't know what to do."

"You didn't have to tell me what I felt wasn't real!" he groaned in pain as another arrow hit him in the stomach "You didn't have to push me away like that!" Another arrow hit him in the chest.

"I know I didn't. Micky I'm sorry for how I treated you. Please… I need you to forgive me for the way I acted… for the way I treated you… It was uncalled for."

Micky looked at Mike, pained, and he groaned as yet another arrow struck him in the heart. "Mike… I can't do this… it hurts too much."

"Well this isn't exactly a walk in the park for me either, Mick. I'm sorry… I hate seeing you in so much pain, knowing that I caused it. You just… please forgive me. It's the only way we can move on…"

Micky looked at him, weakened and in even more pain. "I don't know if I can…"

"Course you can." Mike groaned in pain as he pulled his own arrow out of his chest. "Micky… I'm sorry I don't share those feelings, but I really didn't mean to hurt you. Micky… you have to keep fighting."

Micky hissed in pain and examined his arrow-riddled body. "Fight what? My feelings?"

"No Micky… you have to keep fighting.. you have to wake up… please…"

_Micky… please be strong… keep fighting…_

Looking around in confusion, Micky whimpered and tried to figure out why he heard Mike's voice despite the fact that he hadn't spoken the second time. He let the pain consume him for a few moments. Closing his eyes, he began to feel everything, including the arrows that were lodged in his body, disappear. Once again, Mike's voice echoed through his mind, telling him the confusing phrase about how he had to fight.

...

Still sitting beside the bed, holding onto Micky's hand, Mike let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't bear seeing him this way, but he couldn't bear the guilt of feeling responsible for this even more. Wishing that he knew what Micky was thinking, if anything, and wishing that he knew whether Micky heard what he had said with him, Mike looked away and thought about everything that had taken place. None of this should have happened. He felt as though, if only he didn't push Micky away and dismiss his feelings, this wouldn't have happened. Even though he knew he wasn't really the cause of it, at least not entirely, he still couldn't help feeling as though he was. He looked over at Micky and thought that he should say some more to him, that this notion suddenly seemed so hopeless. As it was, he didn't know of anything else he could possibly say. It would have been like a broken record, even more so if he didn't receive any kind of response.

Mike sighed and stood up, leaving the bedside. He began to pace, not knowing what else to do. All he could do was go over in his mind what he had already said to Micky. This was not going to leave his mind until he knew that he got forgiveness from Micky, but it did not look likely that he was going to wake up to forgive him anytime soon. It frustrated him and broke his heart to know that he wasn't able to truly communicate with his best friend. Not knowing what to do about any of it made him feel so much worse.

He turned back to face Micky, wanting desperately to speak with him, instead of just talking to him. He missed hearing his voice and seeing the smile in his eyes. He missed hearing his same stupid jokes and impressions. There just wasn't anything he could do about it.

"I'm sorry, Mick." he said quietly, trying to hold his emotions inside. "I'm really sorry. You have to know that. I was wrong with how I treated you. But that didn't mean you had to jump off that damn bridge!" he yelled the last part to cover up his forming tears.

"It was all my fault." he sighed, hunching his shoulders "I led you over that bridge. Because I didn't share your feelings… and I pushed you away. But Mick… I was just scared. I was scared of the way you felt for me…" he sighed again, running his hands through his hair.

"I was scared of how I might have felt if I didn't push you away." he shook his head, looking down "I just… I need your forgiveness. I know you can't forgive me right now… just… God, Mick, you need to wake up." he sniffed, feeling the tears start to fall "Just wake up…"

Mike turned away and headed for the door. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes to get rid of the tears. When he opened the door, Davy was standing there.

"He's all yours…" he patted Davy on the shoulder before stepping out of the room.


	3. In the Ring

Part three: In the Ring

When Micky opened his eyes, everything seemed odd to him. He couldn't really explain this sensation other than feeling as though he wasn't really there. It wasn't quite a dream feeling, but more of a surreal, out-of-body experience. As he looked around, he tried to figure out where he was. At first, it seemed like the backstage area of some sort of set. As he moved around the place, it held more of an air of a locker room or a gym. He spied Davy across the room, climbing up some steps while followed by a reporter and a cameraman. He met up on a ledge in front of a line of tough looking boxers. The boxers all looked ready to fight, and easily able to tear the much smaller Davy apart.

Micky gulped and quietly approached Davy. He watched as Davy smiled into the camera after apparently picking his opponent. It was clear that Davy had lost his mind, happily willing to fight one of these men. Disheartened by the scene, Micky walked up to Davy as soon as he knew the camera wasn't running.

"Davy… we need to talk." he said softly, concern full in his voice and eyes.

Davy looked at him with a hard to read his expression. "Micky what are you doing here? I have to get ready for the fight."

"I know, Davy, that's why we need to talk. You shouldn't be doing this. Davy… please don't do it." he pleaded with sad eyes.

"Micky you don't understand. Because of you and Peter… I'm already in that ring." He started to walk away, leaving Micky feel more heavyhearted.

The next thing Micky knew, he sat next to Mike in the stands, surrounded by a cheering audience in the arena. The fight had been going for a few rounds by this point, and the two friends sat and watched with different degrees of disapproval. Micky remained concerned, frightened, and feeling helpless, while Mike remained sullen. Mike often shook his head as thought in disproval of the whole thing. Micky tried to remain supportive of Davy even though he wanted to pull him out of the ring. During the entire fight, Davy received a massive beating, leaving him bloody and bruised, and his pretty face barely recognizable. A few times, as Micky watched, he swore Davy was fighting against himself. Micky removed his thick, round-framed glasses and rubbed his eyes until he saw Davy's actual opponent again.

Micky took notice a few times, as Davy looked into the audience. He saw, through the swelling and bruising, the look of worry on Davy's face, and he could almost feel the tears trying to squeeze through his eyes. Seeing this, he could tell that Davy realized how much this fight was affecting all of them. It hurt Micky even more to watch him continue taking the beating despite all of the pain.

_Micky… I can't do this alone._

Davy's thoughts filled Micky's mind. This made him wish even more that he could help Davy through this. He sat there instead, although antsy about it, knowing that this was Davy's fight.

_Micky… what do I do?_

"Davy, please, you have to stop this. You're only hurting yourself." Micky said, knowing Davy couldn't hear him in the ring.

Again, Micky saw Davy actually fighting against himself instead of the original opponent he chose. The more he saw this, the worse he felt. He could no longer sit there and let Davy keep struggling against himself, but he reminded himself that this was Davy's fight and not his own. However, he couldn't take it any more so he got up and rushed into the ring. With one swift punch, he knocked out Davy's opponent before bringing Davy down to the mat. Micky, near tears, crumbled beside the beaten Davy and took his head gently in his hands.

"Davy I'm sorry. You can't keep doing this to yourself. You can't torture yourself over me. I'm not worth it."

Davy cracked his barely good eye open and looked at him with a pained frown. "I shouldn't feel this way. It's not right… and Peter…" he winced in pain

"No… Davy don't worry so much about this. You're only hurting yourself more. And I can't help how Peter feels about this. It's not my fault. I'm sorry…"

_Micky…_

Hearing Peter's voice in his head, Micky looked around. Peter stood there, nearly hovering and surrounded by fog as though he stepped out of a dream. He looked down at Micky and grinned softly, showing that he was okay.

_Micky… it's ok. I'm sorry. It's my fault._

"Peter I was so stupid to let it get like this." Micky said. "I'm the dummy."

_No. Micky I'm the dummy. I'm always the dummy… Micky… I'll forgive you. It wasn't your fault what Davy was going through. Just please… wake up so we can talk this through together._

"What? Wake up? Peter I don't understand."

_Just wake up, Micky._

Micky hung his head with a sigh, feeling even more confused. He looked at Davy before glancing back up. When he did this, Peter was gone. He sighed again and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble, trying to contain all his emotions.

…

Davy looked up at Peter when he felt him place a hand on his shoulder. There was a clear sadness in Davy's eyes, along with the pain on his face. He sighed and looked back at Micky. Peter sighed as well, patting Davy's back.

"I know it's hard," Peter said softly "but you'll feel better talking to him about it."

"We don't even know if he can hear us."

"That's true… but it can't hurt." Peter looked at Micky for a second "Would you want me to leave you alone with him?"

Davy sat silently for a moment, looking at Micky. He took Micky's hand and nodded his head. "Yeah… I think it would help me to have some privacy."

Peter nodded and stepped away from him. Slowly walking to the door, he stopped and looked back at Davy and Micky. He sighed and left the room. Davy, not taking his eyes off Micky, took his hand, squeezing it a little.

"Micky… I don't know if you can hear me." He paused, looking down

_I can hear you… Davy please… you can tell me anything you need to say._

Davy looked back up at him and leaned forward to brush some curls off Micky's forehead. "This is so hard… I don't even know where to begin."

_Just try, Davy. Let the words come out as they're going to come out… it'll be ok._

Taking a breath, Davy sat back in his chair. He rubbed the tops of his legs as he thought about what to say. "I don't even know if you know everything I was going through… or how long I've dealt with it. I… I've struggled with some things for a while. I don't know why I chose you to talk to about it. I just…" he paused, looking at him thoughtfully. "I guess I just thought you'd be a good soundboard for all of it. If I knew then, the things you were going through… I don't think I would have gone to you with my troubles."

_Davy… it's ok… you needed to talk… I'm always here for you._

"Micky I don't know if this would be easier or harder if you could respond to me right now."

_What do you mean? Davy… I'm trying. See?_

Davy looked down and rubbed his legs again. "It's so hard no matter what… I feel like… I'm just lost right now. I need help finding myself again."

…

He could barely see ahead of him as he made his way through the woods. Ducking beneath low branches and walking through thick brush made finding the path seem like a daunting task. Looking up towards the tops of the trees, he saw peeks of sun. As he looked forward again, he knew he was closer to the path, for he could see glimpses of the meadow on the other side. He grinned to himself and made his way towards the awaiting meadow.

When he reached the edge of the woods, he saw the tall grass and flowers. He also saw Davy walking aimlessly, as though lost in his own thoughts. At first, he thought Davy was smiling, but he quickly realized this smile was actually a look of someone lost and frightened. Micky watched as Davy continued to wander as though in search of something. Not knowing what was going on in Davy's mind made Micky feel sad for him. He felt responsible for the apparent internal struggle Davy was experiencing. Micky sighed, feeling like there wasn't anything he could do but let Davy keep wandering through his torment; lost in the field. Unable to take watching this unfold within his friend, Micky closed his eyes in hopes of it erasing everything.

Nothing was erased, but once Micky opened his eyes again, everything had changed. Micky and his three friends were together again in some sort of bizarre factory. They all wore matching white jumpsuits and followed an older man giving them a tour. As they walked, Micky still didn't feel right about Davy. He took glances back at Davy, seeing him lag behind the group with an air of panic growing around him. It often seemed like Davy was trying to gain their attention towards strange and somewhat frightening occurrences that nobody else had noticed. A few times, Micky heard as Davy called specifically for Peter, sounding like a lost child seeking guidance from someone he could trust. Before Micky could say anything about this, Peter would grab Davy and pull him along with the rest of the group. However, Peter wasn't his gentle, kind self about it. He was gruff, pulling Davy close to him before glaring at Micky. This odd, possessive behavior in Peter struck Micky hard, nearly taking his focus off Davy completely.

The tour guide had led them into a small, dark room. Everything was pitch black once the door closed. They all shouted, pounding on the door and pleading to be let out of the room. While in their confusion and frustration, Micky imagined a bright light shining in their faces and a man calling out instructions to them. His imagination ran wild, turning to thoughts of them being sucked into a giant vacuum cleaner. When he shook himself out of these thoughts, he realized Davy was missing.

Micky thought that, after a few moments, he could hear Davy singing in the distance. He tried to concentrate on the singing, hoping it would lead them to him. That was when he realized that the black box-like room was moving. The three of them stumbled about the room, trying to regain balance and find a way out as it moved. Once the room stopped, a light came on in the center of the room, making it just so they could barely see. There seemed to be a trap door on the ceiling, creating a possible way out for them. Micky watched as Mike climbed up a small ladder and opened the trap door. Confusion swept over the three of them as they heard the voice of the cop telling them to leave the box. A million thoughts at once swarmed Micky's brain as the three of them tried to explain things to the cop. Panic began to grow inside of him as he imagined things becoming stranger by the minute. He needed to find a way out of this and get everything back to normal. However, at this point, he had no idea what normal even was any more. While trying to sort out his thoughts, which were becoming more confusing by the second, he sank to the ground with a heavy sigh. He was no longer sure if he wasn't simply living in a dream. Micky clutched his head, looked to the ground, and felt his growing confusion overwhelm him.

_Micky… please mate, you've got to wake up._

Hearing Davy's voice in his head, Micky looked up, searching the sky for answers. As soon as he did this, he knew the answers he was seeking weren't going to come. He struggled to believe that anything was ever going to go back to normal, and that he was going to find anything that he truly understood again. In that moment, all he could do was sit there and let things happen as they would.

…

"Please, mate." Davy begged, tearfully "You've got to wake up." He hung his head, rubbing his eyes with his thumbs. "I know that's not going to get you to… but I just…" He sighed and looked at him. "Micky I can't stand any of this I wish we could actually talk. But I feel like that's never going to happen. This is it…"

Davy stood and left the bedside. He began to walk around the room, feeling like everything was hopeless. He didn't want to face the idea that Micky wasn't going to come out of his coma, but he knew that he was the only one actually thinking about that possibility. Shaking his head, trying to get rid of these thoughts, he glanced back over at Micky. It hurt him to see Micky lying there, motionless. Micky might as well have been dead, because that was how it felt to Davy seeing him in this state.

"Micky… everyone keeps telling me to keep talking to you 'cause it might help you pull through… you probably do hear all of what we are saying… I hope you do." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just going to say what I need to say." he sighed again. "When I came to you with my problem… I didn't realize it was really about _you._ I know I was having feelings… or I was attracted… and it just confused me like no other. I felt like I shouldn't be attracted to you. I was scared. I kept telling myself that the four of us always being together, had just got to me… Too much time together, you know? I tried to fight my attraction but the more I fought… the worse I felt. You're right. I was torturing myself, trying to figure all this out."

Davy stopped talking for a moment as he walked over to the window. He gazed out towards the hospital parking lot, mindlessly playing with the cord that adjusted the shade. Glancing over his shoulder towards the bed, his sights landed on Micky. He turned and sat on the heater beneath the window.

"Micky I'm sorry for our fight. That was terrible. I was fighting you because… I was scared. I was scared of myself for liking you in that way. I was also scared because… of Peter. See, he was also causing me to go through such a hard time with myself. Not only was I finding myself attracted to one of my best friends… another friend was expressing his feelings for me. I couldn't take it. I felt like running away. It was the hardest thing I ever had to face. It still is hard, but with you in that hospital bed… that's much harder."

He looked at Micky with tears in his eyes, unsure if he could go on with his confessions. "I'm still very much scared and confused over everything. I don't know what I'm going to do about any of it. Maybe I will leave for a while… but I can't do that knowing you're stuck in here on life support. But, Micky, even if I do leave… that fight… and then that kiss… the first kiss we had… I will never forget that. It's all so much for me to bear. And I can't help feeling like I put my troubles on you and made them your troubles. I tortured you with my burdens."

He sniffed, feeling tears begin to fall again as he moved to kneel beside Micky's bed. "Micky I'm sorry for everything. I feel like I caused you to jump off that bridge. I wish I could take all that back. But Micky… you have to keep fighting this. You have to make it through. We have to come back together and hash all this out. I can't do this alone. You have to be here with me… with all of us…" He took Micky's hand, squeezing it as he let tears continue to fall. "You can't stay this way. This can't be it for you. Micky… please just wake up."

Davy sniffed and buried his face into the mattress. He continued to hold onto Micky's hand as he cried softly. It wasn't until he felt Peter's hand on his back when he realized he was no longer alone. He looked up at Peter, wiped tears away, and stood to give him a hug. With a quiet, sad understanding, they both looked at Micky and watched him in silence for a few moments.


	4. A Way Out

Part four: A Way Out

As Micky sat there, looking to the sky for answers, he felt his head swamped with a million thoughts at once. He held the sides of his head, desperately trying to sort through everything that had happened up to this point. He could not tell any more what was real and what merely fantasy was. Had they actually gone through that factory or ridden in that strange, moving black box room? It all seemed like one big strange dream, yet it was all too real and all too frightening.

When he heard Peter say he was going to check on Davy in the bathroom, Micky imagined an entire weird scenario, which started with Davy seeing a giant eye behind the mirror. These images were followed some of Davy heading down a castle-like hallway filled with skeletons and old discarded pieces of metal armor knights would have worn. Even more confusing thoughts occurred about them chained to a dungeon wall before the wall spun around to become part of the bathroom. He even imagined him, Davy and Peter leading Mike in the most frightening and bizarre way, possible to a surprise party. The more he stayed in this fantasy, the worse everything became. He tried to bring himself out of it and back into reality, but at this point, he wasn't even sure what reality was. When he finally shook himself out of these thoughts, he looked around and saw Mike and Davy standing there, looking back down at him.

"You alright, mate?" Davy asked

"Yeah… no… I don't know." Micky stood with a sigh, keeping his head down. "I'll be back."

Micky walked away, heading into the bathroom. When he wandered inside, he couldn't see anything because the entire room was filled with steam. He tried to see through the thick cloud of steam and heard voices coming from across the room. One of the voices he didn't recognize as it sounded heavy with an Indian accent. The other voice he knew right away as Peter. Moving slowly and quietly, Micky began to make his way through the steam as he listened to the two men talk. Something inside told him that he shouldn't disturb them, but he had to find out what they were talking about. Micky stood back where he knew he would be out of the way and not noticed, and where he knew he would hear their conversation well. As he stood there, he peeked through the steam at Peter and continued listening to what he was saying to the man whom he assumed to be a swami.

"It's about Micky…" Peter said, "I just feel so terrible. The way I've been feeling isn't me at all…"

"What isn't you?" the swami asked "These feelings are yours and yours alone. If you weren't feeling them that wouldn't be natural."

"Yeah but… I've been so… jealous and possessive." Peter hesitated, looking away "and I'm not normally that way, especially when it comes to my friends. These are people I care about the most. Well recently I've probably been caring a whole lot about one of them more than the others."

"Probably?"

"Okay, definitely. At first, I felt like I shouldn't feel that way about him because he was one of my best friends. But then I realized there was nothing wrong with me feeling that way about him. The only thing is… when I realized he might have those same feelings for another one of our friends, I didn't know what to do. I felt so brokenhearted."

Micky looked down sadly as he listened to Peter explain the situation between them and Davy. He hadn't realized how much Peter liked Davy, in this way, until he heard him talking about it. Continuing to listen, he heard Peter talking about how he realized his feelings were a big cause of Davy's inner torment. This made Micky's heart sink into his stomach.

"… I feel so terrible about it." Peter said sadly, "I didn't know how to react to knowing Davy was attracted to Micky… and going to him for comfort while trying to work all this out inside of him. And then when I saw them… kissing… I lost it. That's when I became so jealous… I felt entitled to claim Davy as mine. I lost my trust in Micky even though it wasn't his fault." He looked up at the swami with tears forming in his eyes "I wasn't myself at all… all that jealousy… that's not me. I feel like because I was that jealous… I caused more pain within Davy and that spread to Micky and everything else he was going through. Everything he's still going through."

"How do you feel now?"

"Like… I just want Micky to know it's ok. And I'm sorry for how I acted. And… I forgive him for what happened with him and Davy. It wasn't his fault and not in my place to get jealous over it. I just want all of us to move on from this. I want all of us to be happy again."

"And you will all be happy again."

"How? At this point, it all seems impossible."

"All things are possible. Impossibility is a figment of the mind. Once one believes something is impossible, then that's when things becomes impossible. However, this is all just a matter of belief. But was is belief?"

"Belief? Well…" Peter began to think as the swami sat there with a small grin.

Again, Micky looked away as Peter continued to listen to the Swami. He didn't hear everything that the swami had to say, and what he did hear, didn't make any sense. All he could think about was, everything that Peter described about the three of them. He felt his heart break again, reliving it all in his mind. Feeling all the pain resurface, Micky looked towards Peter, barely seeing him through the steam. Tears formed in his eyes, and he felt a hard lump in his throat. It hurt to know that he was the cause of all that pain and torture amongst his friends, and to make it worse, he had no idea what to do about it. Thinking about everything, he turned his attention back to Peter and the swami. He realized then, that Peter was talking all about everything that happened to them up until this point. Hearing it come from Peter made it all sound so much more insane. It made him think that, it all must have been real since he wasn't the only one experiencing it. Once he heard Peter finish the tale, he listened for what the swami had to say, hoping it would clarify everything for him.

"… a psychologically tested belief of our time is that the central nervous system, which feeds its impulses directly to the brain, the conscious and subconscious, is unable to discern between the real and the vividly imagined experience. If there is a difference, and most of us believe there is…"

Greatly confused, Micky tried to make sense of what the swami was saying. Flashes of previous events came to his mind and he tried to use the swami's words to help make sense of everything.

"… to allow the unknown to occur and to occur, requires clarity. And where there is clarity, there is no choice. And where there is choice, there is misery…"

With this said, Micky turned and left the bathroom, not hearing the final thing that the swami spoke to Peter. He held these words with him as he stepped outside, feeling as though if he paid attention to them, everything would become clear. He walked over to where Mike stood, ready to talk to him about everything, but not quite sure how to get it all out. Mike looked at him as though he understood, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Micky nodded at him and closed his eyes.

…

Peter sat sorrowfully by Micky's bed. He tried to remain calm and collected as he spoke to him, but tears kept threatening to spill from his eyes. As much as it hurt him to know Micky was lying there, only alive by the machines, he still felt as though he needed to be brave and not express too much of what he was feeling. He knew, though, that this was impossible for him especially after seeing how Davy and Mike broke down before him. Finally giving in, he clutched Micky's hand and let his tears fall.

"God… Micky… why'd this have to happen to you? Of all people…" he sniffed and more tears fell, landing on Micky. "How could you have jumped?" he rubbed his eyes, whimpering a little "Of course… we kinda pushed you to it, didn't we?"

_Peter what are you talking about? No… don't talk like that… It wasn't you guys…_

"I am so sorry, Micky. You'll have to forgive me for all this. I've forgiven you but it's probably too late." He sniffed "I was so stupid… I had to be such a dummy over everything. None of it was your fault. I was a big… big dummy for the way I acted. But I just… I like Davy a lot. When I saw him with you… I know those kisses didn't mean anything and Davy was just looking for comfort. But I still couldn't help being jealous. It's still no excuse for the way I acted. I… I shouldn't have pulled Davy away like that… I wish I never hit you." he whimpered and sat there letting more tears fall "You should understand that's not really me. I don't even know where all that came from. There's no excuse for any of it, and I'm sorry. For all of it. I'm sorry…"

_Peter… Peter I'm here… Please… please don't cry. I'm here. You don't have to do this to yourself._

"I just wish we all could go back in time… and we could fix all this before it got out of hand. Now Davy wants to leave and Mike is… he's struggling with everything. And he's the strong one. Micky you have to wake up so we can have the chance to make all this right. We're all falling apart. We need you, Micky. You hold all of us together. Please Micky… it shouldn't be like this."

Peter sat back and rubbed his eyes, crying a little more. He sniffed and looked at Mike and Davy as they entered the room. Mike walked over to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder before looking at Micky.

"It wasn't your fault." Mike said softly

Peter nodded with a sniff "I know." he whispered, "The guilt still hurts though."

"I feel it too." Mike looked at Micky again. "We all do."

"There's got to be a way to get him out of this." Peter looked at both of them, tearfully. "This isn't fair, guys. We have to get him out of this."

"How are we going to do that, Peter?" Davy asked sadly, looking at Micky.

Peter whimpered, "I don't know," he smiled quietly "but I know he can't stay this way. It's not fair."

…

Micky stood next to Mike as they looked up with slight concern towards the top of a nearby building. A crowd began to gather and everyone looked up as a girl standing on the roof screamed. She wore nothing but a spotted bikini and she flailed about, screaming that she was going to jump.

"You know who she is, right?" Mike asked

"What do you mean? The girl?"

"Yeah. That girl. She's panicked, clearly troubled. And she's threatening to jump." He glanced at Micky "That girl is you."

"No she's not." Micky looked at the girl and gulped "She's not going to jump."

"She will. Just like you."

"I say she won't." Micky said, nonchalantly

"Sure she will." Mike said, "Ten dollars says she will."

"Ten dollars, huh?"

At this point, Peter burst out of the bathroom, wrapped in a sheet. He sounded panicked and attempted to get their attention about something important. However, they both kept their eyes toward the girl on the roof. Before either of them could react to Peter, he was gone again, saying something about finding Davy. Micky and Mike turned away from the girl on the roof only to look at each other in confusion over what Peter was saying. This confusion was only short-lived as the girl screamed loudly before jumping off the roof. Mike reacted quickly and caught her before she could hit the ground. The girl gasped and looked around as though she was in a daze as she lay draped in Mike's arms. For a moment, Micky just stared at her, feeling his emotions surface within him. Mike's words about this girl being him, struck a major cord with him that he never imagined he would feel before.

By the time Davy and Peter returned from wherever they were, Micky was paying Mike the money he had lost on their bet. Micky sighed, kicking himself for not believing the girl would jump when he knew that was what he did. Trying to ignore this, he heard Peter frantically trying to tell them what sounded important information. As they unintentionally ignored his pleas for them to listen, Micky imagined them suddenly back in the factory. Just as Peter was trying to warn them about it, they wound up back in the black box room, without an obvious way out of it.

Micky stood back as Mike and Davy began arguing with Peter on whether or not he knew how to get them out of the black box. He watched as Peter, clearly upset, called them out for ignoring his warnings that led them there. With a sigh, Micky sat down, leaning against the nearest wall. He watched as his friends talked amongst themselves about whether or not they could find a way out. Before he realized what happened, he saw Peter sitting across from them with a lit candle.

Peter began talking calmly to them, giving a similar speech he heard from the swami. Micky tried his best to concentrate on Peter's words, but faced his own internal struggles of what he was going through. All of it was beyond confusing. The more he tried to figure everything out, the worse it made him feel. His mind switched from thinking about how to escape all this to everything he caused between him and his friends. All the pain, torment and heartbreak flooded to him to the point where he didn't know what to do about it. He suddenly felt the way he did before his jump. Looking at Mike and Davy, he could tell they were beginning to feel the same way, but it was clear they were desperately trying to listen to Peter for an answer; a way out. Micky sighed and looked down. Not knowing what else to do, he closed his eyes and succumbed to all his thoughts.

…

_Help me guys… Please… I'm trying all I can… Please help me._

There was a silence in the room, except for the constant running machines as a nurse came in to check on Micky. She looked at all three of them with a sympathetic grin as she worked.

"Sorry, guys. I know this can't be easy for any of you. But you hang in there." she looked at Micky, briefly glancing at the monitors. "He's fighting in there. Doing better than before actually. His signs are promising to be honest."

Mike sighed, not buying the optimistic tone in her voice. "How is he doing any better than what he was before? It's not like he's been doing anything. The machines have been keeping him alive."

_I am alive, Mike. Please, you have to see this. I'm here. I'm alive. I just… I can't wake up. You have to help me… you all do._

The nurse frowned a little with a sigh "I know it seems helpless now, like there hasn't been any change in him. But there has. He's actually growing less dependent on the machines. Just hang in there for him. He's doing well." she patted Mike on the shoulder and left the room.

_See guys? I'm doing well… But I can't do this on my own._

Mike looked at his other two friends and frowned, wanting to say something. Peter, who remained vigilantly by Micky's side, looked up at Mike. Traces of tears remained in his eyes and he opened his mouth to speak. With a sigh, he shook his head once words failed him. Davy hopped down from the heater and crossed the room. With a finger tapping his lips, he paused and thought, searching for answers. He crossed the room a few more times before turning on his heel to face them. A mixture of emotions span across his face, frustration and determination were fighting, to take the lead spot.

"The nurse said he's improving. This is a good sign. I say, we keep at it, talking to him. But instead of being sad like we've been, and pleading him to wake up and keep fighting, we encourage him. Give him a reason to fight and wake up. He has to come through this, and it's clear to me that he's in there, trying all he can. We have to help him fight his way through. At all costs." he looked at them hopefully. "Right?"

There was another moment of silence as Peter and Mike pondered Davy's words. Mike straightened his posture and he nodded his head.

"You know something, Peter? Midget Greenie's right. No more feeling sorry for the situation. Micky wouldn't want us to be sad. He'd want us to go on as normal as possible."

Peter slowly grinned as he listened. He stood and joined them for a small circle. "You're both right." he stuck his fist in front of him, cuing them to join their fists in the center of the circle. "Let's do this for Micky. We'll bring him out of this."

They pounded and shook their fists together, nearly bringing them into a small bout of laughter. They didn't know exactly what they were going to do, but they were determined to help Micky get back to normal, no matter what it would take.

_Yes… thank you guys. Don't let me down._


	5. In the End

Part five: In the End

Coming out of his thoughts, Micky blinked and looked around him. Much to his disappointment, they were still in the black box. As he turned his attention to his friends, he felt like he was watching them as though in a dream. Looking over at Peter, he heard the last of what he was saying.

"… Now this process, unless we pay it tremendous attention, begins to separate us from the reality of the now. Am I being clear? For we must allow the reality of the now to just happen as it happens. Observe and act with clarity. And where there is clarity, there is no choice. And where there is choice, there is misery. But then, why should I speak, since I know nothing?"

Davy looked at him in disbelief "Nothing? You know nothing?"

"That's right." Peter confirmed

"You mean to tell me we've been sitting here and you know nothing?"

"Take it easy." Mike warned

"Take it easy?" At this point, Davy was in a mixture of boiling frustration and fear. "We're stuck in here because of him!" Davy pointed at Micky, tears forming in his eyes "We've been struggling to get through all this. It all seems so helpless… you two," he motioned to Mike and Peter "are trying to stay calm, sitting there doing nothing, and saying you know nothing, while Micky keeps us here. There has to be a way out of here but you guys are giving up! What happened to us trying to help him fight?" he waved a hand towards Micky "He's just sitting there confused, and you guys are giving up! Well I'm not giving up!"

Davy continued to rant, getting himself more fired up. The other three stood and stepped closer to him, trying to calm him down. He dismissed them and continued his emotional rant. "I'm not giving up on Micky! We have to get him out of this!" he tore off his white jumpsuit, cuing the other three to do the same. "It might not be important to any of you to keep trying to help Micky, but it's important to me. I'll show you how to get out of this box. You wanna get out of this box?" he looked at Micky "This is how you get out." He turned to the wall and kicked it as hard as he could, knocking it down. The only way the other three could react was to follow him out of the room.

Emotionally charged, Davy fought his way through the rest of the factory, while the other three watched in awe. At first, Micky stood baffled as he watched Davy take action. He looked at Mike and Peter and saw the pride on their faces. They nodded at him, letting him know everything was going to be okay. Accepting this, though still slightly unsure, Micky walked ahead with them. In unison, they turned around towards factory workers that were behind them and punched them out cold. Then, each with pride on their faces, they continued walking to join Davy.

They stopped at the exit only so Davy could heroically fight off the final and biggest factory worker. Finally leaving everyone in their dust, they left the factory. However, Micky wasn't convinced that all was well. Ahead of them in their path stood a large, white screen that was stretched across the scenery, Seeing this screen caused Micky to feel as though things were about to get worse. Before he could speak about this screen, he watched Davy plow through it, still in his emotionally charged leadership. When Micky realized his other two friends had no problem following Davy through the screen, he sighed and did the same.

Once through, Micky turned to examine the mysterious screen. He saw a nature scene upon it, full of dried prairie lands, dead trees and rocky hills. Hearing a familiar commotion, Micky turned around and saw the same tree and overturned wagon he saw before. It seemed that the battle he experienced earlier was still raging on around them, but something was different about it. Micky trembled, trying to take in everything. As he looked around, he was stunned by the terrifying discovery that this was a movie set. Within these moments of sheer terror, he stood frozen in his spot, coming to the conclusion that nothing he had experienced was real. Nothing he had previously tried to make sense of mattered.

His head buzzed with a million thoughts as well as the voices of his friends. He clutched the side of his head, feeling everything begin to spin around him.

_Micky you have to keep fighting._

He looked up, his eyes straining as Davy's voice echoed through his mind. "What?"

_Come on, buddy, fight it._

Micky whipped his head towards where Mike was, only to see he wasn't there anymore. "Mike? What? What's happening?"

_Please, fight harder, Micky. You can do this._

"Peter? What? What am I supposed to be fighting?"

The spinning sensation grew worse. Micky's breathing increased a bit as panic rose within him. He stumbled before bringing himself down to the ground and onto his knees. Holding his head again, he leaned forward with a cry and closed his eyes, quickly blacking out.

…

The doctor checked the monitors, making sure Micky's vitals were still at good levels. He shined a light in Micky's eyes to check his pupils before turning to face the other three men in the room.

"Everything is looking real good. Honestly, and I can't promise anything, but he seems like he could be waking up soon. We're going to try easing him off the life support to see how well he does."

Peter was the first to respond, giving a small, yet, hopeful grin. "Well that sounds wonderful." he looked at the others "Guys, Micky might be waking up!"

Davy grinned softly and brought Peter into a one-armed hug. He patted his shoulder, his grin spreading. "I know, it's great news."

Mike looked from everyone else to Micky. He stepped over to the bed and sat down, taking Micky's hand. "Well Mick…" he cleared his throat and lightly rubbed the top of Micky's hand with his thumb "I hope you heard the doctor, because it sounds promising." he said, trying to sound positive.

At this point, he was so physically exhausted and emotionally drained that he wasn't sure how to even act towards Micky anymore. "Mick… even though the doctor says you're getting better now, you still gotta fight. Things are beginning to look up, but you're not out of the woods yet, ok buddy?"

Mike looked back at Davy and Peter. The encouraging expressions on their faces urged him to continue with what he was saying. "Micky I hope you're listening. I now you're strong enough to fight this. I know you're capable of waking up from this coma. You can do this."

He paused, squeezing Micky's hand a little. He wasn't sure, but it seemed almost as though Micky squeezed it back. It was very light, but Mike believed he felt it. A smile began to form on his lips as he continued speaking.

"You got this, Mick. Don't fail us now." He reached forward and brushed some curls out of Micky's face. "You've made it this far in just a few weeks. The doctor's amazed at how much you've improved. To tell the truth… I didn't believe you actually would. I mean… by the time I managed to pull you out of the water, I thought you were a goner. We all did… you're gonna be okay, Micky, come back to us."

…

Hearing his friends calling his name in concern caused Micky to stir. He cracked his eyes open and stared up at the sky, searching for their faces. Slowly sitting up, he held his head and groaned.

"How long was I out?"

"Not long." Mike said before holding a hand out for him to take "You doing alright?"

Answering with a small nod, Micky took Mike's hand and let him pull him up onto his feet. As he looked around, his heart sank once he saw that they were still on the movie set. Disheartened, he looked at Mike in hopes that he would have answers for him. However, Mike shrugged with a small sigh.

"C'mon. We have to get out of here." Mike said

Micky was reluctant, but he knew his only choice at this point was to go along with his friends. Passing the movie set, they wandered into an old western town and stood in the middle of the street. Facing them from the end of the road was a group of bandits. The leader of the group, holding a rifle over his shoulder, was a man Micky recognized from another encounter. Micky gulped, staring at the man as he spoke to them in a threatening manner. The man prepared to shoot at the four friends, while the other bandits watched in mockery. Just before the man could shoot, Davy suddenly fired a canon, bringing the man and the other bandits to the ground in defeat. The others blinked in confusion, questioning Davy's ability to conjure a canon from nowhere. This confusion was shrugged off, however, as the four of them continued walking through the town.

Micky held an unsettling feeling inside of him. He still pondered everything, trying to hold onto hope that something through all these bizarre occurrences was real. He wanted so much for something to make sense to him again, and it pained him to realize this wasn't going to happen, at least not anytime soon. While thinking about everything that happened to him and his friends, he thought that things couldn't possibly get any stranger, any worse for them. The idea of this quickly went away as his imagination began to run wild again.

A loud, booming voice was heard coming from above, as a giant man began laughing at them. They looked up towards the man and knew that they had to make their escape before this man could come after them. They scattered but they were barely fast enough to outrun the giant's feet. As they ran, somehow reaching the desert Micky was in before, Micky began to panic. He felt the weight of everything that happened before he jumped, begin to press down on him again. The giant man kept laughing at them, his voice echoing as he stomped the ground. Micky's panic rose as he stared up at the giant, seeing him as all the problems he had faced. There was no longer an escape in Micky's mind. No matter what direction he would run, the giant, laughing man and all his problems was going to be there.

Flashes of different images filled Micky's mind, almost as though someone was sitting in his head, flipping through channels on a television. These images included bits of events that occurred to him and his friends, as well as brief clips from old movies he had watched before. He even saw himself sitting alone in the black box, talking about how it was a universe. Though these images of himself were confusing, he decided it was a way of his mind trying to reason everything. He made sense of the black box being more or less a calm place in his mind where he could quietly think things through. He realized that whenever he was trapped in it with his friends, they were trying to reach out to him from the conscious, physical world. The more he made sense with this concept, the more things around him went haywire. He felt as though everything in this world was breaking down.

One bizarre thing after another began to occur, causing the world around Micky to break down even more. Micky even imagined them soaring through the air before landing on different parts of what appeared to be a film lot for movies. Craziness ensued as other people tried to avoid them as they plowed through the different sets, while riding in a small jeep. The jeep brought them back to the desert and back to the giant laughing man. The giant kicked the jeep, causing them to tumble out of it and down a sand dune. Once at the bottom of the dune, they gazed up and saw nearly everyone they had encountered, every big obstacle they had faced, including the menacing Coke machine. All these people began chasing them, causing Micky's panic to soar. He started thinking about everything he had experienced, and all the troubles he had caused for him and his friends, causing him to feel worse and worse as he ran. The weight of the world was once again on his shoulders, as he ran ahead of his friends, leading them back to the bridge.

Micky burst through the red tape, interrupting the dedication ceremony that was already in progress. Unable to take any more, Micky ran over to the ledge, tore off his jacket, and climbed up onto the railing. He knew his friends were closing in on him but he couldn't react to it. Without a single thought, he jumped off the bridge, making his great escape.

Mike, Peter and Davy ran up to the ledge and watched as Micky plummeted to the water. There was more than one way down to save him, but Mike knew what was the fastest. He quickly turned to Peter and Davy, telling them to meet him down there with the coastguard, and then he climbed onto the ledge. Knowing he was taking a big risk, Mike leapt off the ledge in hopes of saving Micky.

The water surrounded Micky as he sank. He cracked his eyes open, watching bubbles float away from him and saw someone swimming towards him. In his delusional mind, he believed this to be a mermaid. He closed his eyes and felt everything around him fade.

Mike reached and grabbed hold of Micky, wrapping his arms around him the best that he could. He swam, pulling Micky with him up to the surface. Luckily for him, the coastguard boat was waiting with rescuers to help them out of the water. Once on the boat, Mike lay exhausted, panting on the deck for a moment. He sat up and someone wrapped a towel around his shoulders. Looking at the man with a quiet "thank you", Mike then turned his eyes over to Micky. Davy and Peter sat on either side of him and they all watched as a couple of the rescuers attempted to revive Micky. Feeling that his revival was hopeless at this point, Mike hung his head and closed his eyes.

…

The doctor checked the machines before looking at the nurses. They conversed a bit before the doctor gave the official "okay" to turn off the oxygen. Keeping a close eye on Micky, the nurses eased him off the oxygen to see how he would react. Once it was clear that Micky was having an easy time breathing without the assistance of machines, the nurses grinned and eased him off the rest of the machines.

As all this occurred, the three friends stood back and watched in bated breath. Without thinking much about it, Mike rested a hand on Davy's shoulder, the other on Peter's back, guiding them closer to him. In all the times they shared together, even during the past few weeks in the hospital, nothing they experienced was ever as intense or as emotional as it was now. It was hard for either of them to breathe as they kept focus on Micky.

Time seemed to stand still as they watched the machines turn off one by one. They watched, their hearts pounding, as Micky gave no reactions towards being removed from the life support. The only thing that gave them relief in this situation was the fact that the nurses kept smiling and saying how well he was doing on his own. He still wasn't awake, but his chest rising and falling gave it away that he was still alive and without any obvious trouble. The nurses smiled at the three of them and said they would return periodically to check on Micky, and then they left the room.

Davy was the first of them to step closer to the bed. He quietly sat down, not taking his eyes off Micky. He cleared his throat and took Micky's hand.

"Hey." He grinned a little as he spoke softly "Looks like you're doing well. You're gonna make it." He looked towards the other two guys.

Peter walked over and stood on the other side of Micky's bed. "Micky this is amazing. We know you're still in there. You're hanging on, aren't you?" a small grin spread across his lips. "Now you just gotta wake up."

Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat as he walked over to the bed. "Mick… you have no idea how relieved we are right now. Well relieved doesn't even begin to describe it. I know we all went through a lot of stuff with you before this… a lot of emotional stuff. That's all past us. We can move on. Once you wake up, I mean." He stood by the foot of the bed and patted Micky's leg. "Won't be long now, buddy."

The three friends sat by the bed and continued talking to Micky for a while. Their conversation was interrupted once as a nurse returned to check on Micky. Once they were alone again, they went back to what they were saying. Peter brushed back some of Micky's hair and snickered a little.

"You need a haircut, Micky." He chuckled "And you could use a shave."

"Yeah," Mike said "You're startin' to look like one of those long-haired weirdo hippies."

"Nah," Davy shook his head "Those weirdoes wouldn't wear hospital gowns. And he's got not beads. How can he be a hippie without beads?"

"Maybe we should fix him up like one." Peter chuckled and picked up Micky's hand. When he felt a squeeze back, he gasped "Hey guys! Guys I think he's waking up!" he smiled

Davy and Mike moved closer, hopefully, and they each tried to get Micky to react to them. It was slow at first, with only another hand squeeze within nearly ten minutes, but they didn't let go of hope. After a little bit, Micky stirred and his eyes fluttered a little. He cracked his eyes open and looked towards them, causing them to each let out gasps of joy. The three of them clamored with excitement, immediately greeting Micky awake and calling for the doctor with the happy news.

Though somewhat dazed at first, Micky soon became fully alert and began talking to the doctor. It wasn't a lot, not nearly up to his normal standard, but just hearing his voice again was more than they could hope for right then. It made them think the times before when they would tell him to shut up, annoyed to death of hearing him speak. Thinking about this, made them feel even more appreciative to hear his voice.

The past few weeks were emotional to say the least. Neither of them knew if Micky was ever going to wake up from his coma, even when the nurses and doctor provided them with the hope. Now that Micky was awake, they were far more grateful than they thought they would be. Though their previous issues hadn't been resolved yet, they were happy to have their friend back. There was still a lot for them to go through during Micky's recovery, but they were glad to remain there by his side during it all.


End file.
